Hellos and Goodbyes

Ted and I were high school seniors and just one day away from graduation. We were strolling down the main street of our east Kansas town at lunch time when a lady whose name I can’t remember stopped us and said, “Ted, I could lose my job with the draft board for telling you this, but I just dropped your army summons notice in the outbox at the post office. You will receive it tomorrow. If you want to be in some branch of the service other than the army you need to be on the next train today to Kansas City to sign up. You can graduate from high school by proxy.”
The “next train” left in two hours and with it my reason at that point for living. Somehow I put one foot in front of the other and faced the long, hot, humid summer on our farm with my aging parents, dog, multiple cats, horse and single shot rifle (I still have the rifle.). I waited by the mailbox every day for Ted’s letters from his assigned navy post while my parents listened to every radio broadcast that included news from the South Pacific where my brother, Bob served our country in the Air force.
My first “goodbye” to Ted behind me, my life became a series of hellos and goodbyes (Whose life doesn’t?) interspersed with attempts to find a purpose to live without my steady Teddy. That “Purpose” unfolded as Jesus revealed Himself to me when I was nineteen.
Fast forward to today: It’s midafternoon of day thirteen since three screws were inserted into my hip to hold it together temporarily until that day when we all will receive our glorified bodies. I aced the physical therapy exercise this morning so I am now at home, breathing our clear mountain air with Bootsie (half of my cat team) curled up beside me. Dee has good smellin’ stew in the crock pot. I am one happy mama. Dee has been with me every day at the hospital and there aren’t enough words to tell you what that means to me. It will be weeks before I can walk without pain, a limp, a grimace and someone to keep me from falling and breaking another bone that’s connected to the hip bone.
I forgot to tell you what Gary, my longtime radiologist friend quipped, “Jo, you’ve been sideswiped by another vehicle in your NASCAR race. You’re now in a pit stop receiving speedy repairs and will be starting the next lap of your race before you know it.” Ok, Gary, I’m counting big on your knowing what you’re talking about.
I can’t count the visitors who have come to both hospitals. The drama in their lives comes with them. I love them all and perhaps have been able to add some perspective along with some laughs about the pesky interruptions that plague us all. God’s Word, our Anchor, hasn’t gathered any moss.
All my life I have noted that when an aging (note how I avoid the word “old”) person breaks a hip, one quarter of those afflicted die, OR soon after they break something else; therefore I’m practicing keeping one eye peeled for objects that might trip me up and the other eye fixed on Jesus Who is waiting with open arms to welcome me home with a final “HELLO”!

Hymn for the week: BRINGING IN THE SHEAVES

Sowing in the sunshine, sowing in the shadows,
Fearing neither clouds nor winters chilling breeze;
By and by the harvest and the labor ended,
We shall come rejoicing, bringing in the sheaves.

Going forth with weeping,
Sowing for the Master,
Though the loss sustained our spirit often grieves;
When our weeping’s over He will bid us welcome,
We shall come rejoicing, bringing in the sheaves.

Love,
Jo